


I've got headaches (...but they couldn't touch you)

by shrdmdnssftw



Series: 1D Drabbles [3]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-11
Updated: 2012-05-11
Packaged: 2017-11-05 04:46:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/402584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shrdmdnssftw/pseuds/shrdmdnssftw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <blockquote>
  <p>It's the jetlag, he thinks, or maybe the homesickness that he'll never admit to but the others sense anyway.</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	I've got headaches (...but they couldn't touch you)

**Author's Note:**

> A mostly gen drabble with heavy Niall/Liam implications. Title from [Of All the Gin Joints In All the World](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yKRnpGZyjcM). It's really not much at all, but I felt like writing it.

He's got the worst sort of headache, the kind that burns into your eyes and makes the world chill and ache. Niall pretty much wants to sleep for twenty years, but they're on stage and the lights are so, so bright. He squints, trying not to grimace at the pain in the back of his head.

The TV interviewer is asking them questions but Niall can't seem to concentrate beyond the movement of her lips. An arm wraps around his shoulder, squeezing in a reassuring manner. He leans back into it, glad that he's not alone on stage.

"Two more minutes," Liam whispers into his ear, and Niall almost lets out a sigh of relief.

He's had the headache for the majority of the day now, probably not helped by the coffee he sipped at earlier, trying to stay awake. It's the jetlag, he thinks, or maybe the homesickness that he'll never admit to but the others sense anyway. The studio audience finally starts clapping and the boys flash a smile, do a small wave and make their way out back.

In single file, they pass through the green room where they'd stood before the show, Louis pushing Harry and Zayn through to wardrobe so they can switch out of the stage outfits. Niall is lagging behind, eyes half shut and still somehow attached to Liam's arm. He has half a mind to nuzzle up to Liam, but there are limits, always always limits, and Paul is ushering them to follow the other's footsteps down the corridor.

He finds himself standing in the middle of the room, too worn out to do much beyond watching the other boys bustle around him, when hands start to tug at the bottom of his polo. Niall comes to his senses, and twists his head around to see Liam smiling and trying to help Niall get ready in time. His shirt goes over his head, ruffling the carefully styled mess that it was already in. A plain white tshirt is handed over and Niall tugs it on.

From across the room, Zayn mouths something that could be _Daddy Direction_ , but if it is, Liam's ignoring it in favour of grabbing a bottle of water from the table and pressing a painreliever into Niall's left hand. He quickly swallows the pills and gulps down the water and focuses on the circles that Liam is rubbing into his shoulder.

"Okay boys, it's time to go!" and it's like Paul's words are a signal, pushing the other four into action. Niall is swept along and sometimes wonders how they manage to work so well in synchronisation, how they manage to shield each other from the loud lights and sounds. They're at the doors of the studio now, the sounds of the crowds dulled through the glass.

"You feeling better?" Liam murmurs, and Niall nods. Even with the pain lingering in the back of his skull, Niall knows he's okay. He knows in Liam's hand still being a warm weight on Niall's neck, the way that Louis gripping his hand, ready to lead them out. He knows in Harry's smile of reassurance and Zayn's jacket wrapped warm around him. He knows it in the way that even if the five of them had not made it this big, they would still act the same. Niall understands this and that is what eases the ache the most.


End file.
